Chicken Pox, Oven Mitts, and Handcuffs
by Coffee Monsta
Summary: Gary is sick and tries to hide it from his older friend, Luke, whom he lives with at the time. Chaos ensues... you also get to meet a 15yr old Gary, so win win. Rated M for language.
**A/N: Hi hello, it's literally almost midnight, but I just got this really fantasmic idea for a oneshot... it includes a 15 year old Roach who happens to have chicken pox... you can already tell this is gonna be interesting, can't you?**

 **P.S.- As I'm sure you girls have noticed... and maybe guys... if you roll that way... the cover image for this oneshot is a cute guy. His name is Jungkook... he is Korean but he really looks like how I picture Roach looking (when he has brown hair) and well of course Roach is British and not Korean, but if you make Jungkook less Korean, then he will somehow magically turn into Roach. Sooo... ummm anywho, Jungkook does not look EXACTLY like what my imagination created as 15 yr old Roach, but he's the closest to it that I could find. There's only a few minor details that are different... like Roach's hair would be fluffier... the faces are the same except, again, Roach would look less... well, Korean. But I know you're probably getting tired of me carrying on about cute guys named Jungkook that look like 15yr old Roach, so just go read the story.**

 **Oh wait never mind, I must tell you that if anyone thinks Jungkook is cute (don't be ashamed, I love him...) I thought you should know that over in Korea he's a SUUUUPER famous singer and dancer in a group known as BTS. They are all super cute and awesome, so whomever has the time should TOTALLY go on YouTube and search up 'BTS'. The first song that comes up is called 'Dope', no I promise it has absolutely nothing to do with dope. It's about how adults always underestimate younger peoples' ability to succeed in life because, well, they're young and about 85% of the time, extremely immature. But yeah, the choreography (dancing) in that video is AMAZING. And the song will get stuck in your head. And stay there forever. Okay, bye bye...!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Call of Duty Modern Warfare in any way shape or form, but I do own the OC... his name is Luke.**

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Gary sighed and scratched his leg as he walked home from Cotham School (in Bristol, England) He was a sophomore this year and it was rough. He didn't really care about whether he liked the school or not, just that he learned things that would be useful in the future. Although it was extremely difficult to learn _anything_ with the nausea and headaches he'd been having lately. And just last night he had started itching everywhere. He felt shitty but didn't want to miss any school because he absolutely _hated_ make up work, so he had simply dealt with it and went to school that morning. Bad choice. He had been itching and scratching _all day long_ and hence, hadn't been able to concentrate on any of his classes. In fact, he was _still_ itching.

He wanted to stop because he was now bleeding in multiple places from all the itching, but he _couldn't._ Every time he tried, it started hurting and seemed to itch more and more as each second ticked by. It was awful. He hadn't gotten any sleep last night because of it and today he couldn't focus at all, so he might as well have stayed home from school. He hadn't gotten anything done anyways.

He had an obscene urge to rip off all of his clothes and scratch every inch of his body, but refrained from doing so. His head was pounding as he turned a corner and hurriedly crossed the busy street overflowing with cars. His whole body burned with the urge to scratch but common sense told him he shouldn't.

 _Ahhh, it hurts so bad... damn it..._ He thought miserably.

And he was _so_ fucking tired. He would have fallen asleep in class, had the incessant itching not been there to keep him awake. He scratched at his shoulder through his black Aeropostale hoodie and turned down an alley. It was the middle of January in Bristol, so it was only about 23 degrees outside. Snow was expected to come later tonight. He was almost home and he was nervous and anxious at the same time. Nervous because he couldn't figure out a way to hide his sickness from Luke. Luke was like an older brother to him. Gary had run away from his father, John, at age 13 and Luke had taken him in, given him a place to stay. He didn't trust him at first, but eventually the older man grew on him and soon they were inseparable. Luke was more like a brother to him than a father because he was only 20 years old, so he definitely wasn't old enough to be his father and he certainly couldn't picture it being that way. (Luke Description- Tall and skinny with light blonde hair and green eyes, just in case anyone wanted to know, yes, he has abs.)

Gary hated doctors. He hated being poked and prodded at with foreign objects in a weird sanitary place so, therefore, he also hated hospitals. Hospitals and doctors went together like two peas in a pod and he hated them both. He shivered just thinking about it. Luke literally had to drag him to the doctors office the last time he needed a checkup. And when he got sick, Luke got really worried and usually forced him to go to the hospital, depending on his symptoms and the severity of them. Plus, Luke happened to be an intensive care nurse in the ICU at the hospital a few miles from their house. Sometimes Luke just treated his illness at home, he had a lot of resources at his fingertips because of his job, but he didn't like to. He didn't have any of the fancy equipment that was available at the hospital, just some basic things (in his opinion) in case of emergency. He liked to be absolutely sure of what Gary had and that it got treated properly. That's why he preferred to take Gary to the hospital when he got sick or hurt. Which is exactly why Gary didn't want him to find out that he was sick.

He was anxious because he knew that when he got home, he could scratch all he wanted- without attracting Luke's attention, of course. And he could take some pain medication and hopefully this horrible illness would just pass over. Little did he know, he would have no such luck.

After about ten more minutes of walking he was finally home and he almost screamed in relief when he walked through the front door, throwing his backpack across the room as he went. He lazily plopped down onto the couch, absently scratching at his neck as he glanced at the clock- 4:17 PM.

 _Oh shit... Luke will be home in 15 minutes!_

He launched himself from the couch and picked up his backpack as he went toward his room. Not bothering to turn on the lights, he threw his backpack into the corner and shrugged out of his hoodie before grabbing a different t-shirt to change into (one that didn't have any blood on it). He paused for a moment when he noticed little red dots covering his chest and arms, some even going all the way up to his face. It had gotten a lot worse since last night. He sighed sadly, knowing this looked like chickenpox but desperately hoping it wasn't. He sat down on his bed and scratched his burning lower back, t-shirt sitting forgotten in his lap.

It felt so good finally being able to scratch after trying to refrain from doing so _all fucking day._ After God only knows how long, he felt something warm and wet trickle down his back. He gasped and hurriedly pulled his hand back to look at it. Blood was caked up under his nails and on his fingers, coating the latter and turning a brownish color as it dried. His body seemed to burn more fiercely than before now that he had stopped scratching and he felt like crying in frustration. He was prevented from doing so when the sound of the front door opening floated to his room.

"Gary! I'm home!" Luke called, shutting the door behind himself and setting his stuff down on the counter.

Said person was too busy wiping blood off of himself and throwing on a clean shirt and hoodie (so his arms were covered) as quickly as humanly possible. He finished and stumbled out of the room, nearly tripping over his own feet as he did so.

"... Hi!" Gary said awkwardly, swaying in place to try and distract himself from the urge to itch.

Luke looked up from starting dinner and smiled at him.

"Hey, how was your day? You didn't TP the school, did you?" He joked lightly.

In fact, Gary had snuck out and done that before- not that Luke knew that. At least, he didn't think he knew...

"Ummmm... no. What's for dinner?" He asked, unconsciously scratching at his chest.

The thought of food made him want to puke, but he needed to change the subject and that was the only thing he could think of at the moment.

"Tacos, I've been craving the damn things all week!"

The oven beeped, letting him know it was done preheating. He opened the oven and slid the tray of taco shells into it, studying Gary out of the corner of his eye. He was acting... weird. Usually he wasn't so awkward around Luke, hell, he'd known him since he was around 11. They hadn't lived together that long, but they had known each other since then. Gary moved in with him when he was 13. So Luke had known him long enough to know when his behavior was odd, as it currently was. And what was with all the scratching? He also noticed a couple of small red dots on Gary's face, but didn't comment, guessing it was just acne. Gary _was_ a teenager after all. Dealing with puberty and shit like that.

"What's up with the hoodie? We _do_ have a thermostat you know." He stated, crossing his arms and leaning back against the stove.

Gary just nodded dumbly and stood there, staring at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing he had ever seen. Luke was really getting worried and was about to ask him what was wrong when his cellphone started ringing. He saw Gary jump at the sudden loud noise and it only increased the growing amount of worry he had for the kid. Sighing, he took it from his back pocket and answered the call. Shit. It was Mrs. Brown- one of Gary's teachers. She told him about Gary's behavior in civics class today and his worry skyrocketed. He thanked her for taking the time to call and told her he'd talk to him about it, then ended the call. He put his phone down on the counter and crossed his arms once again.

"That was Mrs. Brown, she said you didn't get any work done in class today. And you've been acting... off ever since I got home. Are you sick or something?"

Gary's head snapped up at the word 'sick' and he was honestly surprised the kid didn't give himself whiplash.

"No!" He said quickly... a bit too quickly in Luke's opinion.

He knew damn well Gary hated doctors and hospitals, but as much as he hated to admit it, he wasn't even _his_ kid. Not that he would ever even _think_ about sending him back to his real father. He hated John with all of his being because he knew about everything that had happened between him and Gary. But he still wasn't gonna have the kid die just because he didn't take him to the hospital when he should have. He gave the kid another once over. He was still scratching. Why the fuck was he still scratching?!

"Yep. You're definitely sick. Off with the hoodie."

Gary immediately shook his head no.

"Take it off before I do it for you."

 _Oh nonononono. This is bad..._ Gary thought, still not making any move to take off the hoodie.

"Okay that's it." Luke said, starting toward him.

He didn't even make it halfway there and Gary already had the hoodie off, revealing dozens of small red dots and blisters, some of which were bleeding. He gasped and grabbed Gary's arm, pulling him closer to get a better look. He could see blood caked up under his nails, probably from where he had been itching. He then pulled the t-shirt off of him as well and saw that the blisters had spread to his chest and neck. And when he turned him around they also covered his back, along with more dried blood.

"Is this why you didn't get anything done today in school? Why didn't you tell me before it got this bad?!"

 _Why the bloody hell did it have to be chickenpox?! Of ALL the things he could've gotten, it just HAD to be chickenpox, didn't it?!_

Gary just stood there, tears welling in his big brown eyes. He idly picked at his leg, trying to think of a relevant answer. Luke quickly batted his hand away.

"Don't scratch them! You've already made yourself bleed and scratching only makes it worse. You can get bacteria from your nails into the blisters and that can lead to infection!"

Gary didn't respond, mostly because he didn't really feel like talking. His throat hurt like a bitch.

Luke sighed and said, "Go put your clothes in your room and strip down to your boxers. I need to find some medicines."

He turned and started looking through the medicine cabinets for what he needed. When Gary didn't move after a few minutes, he turned back around.

"What is it? Aren't you gonna go?"

"Ummm... d-do I _have_ to strip down to my boxers...?" Gary asked uncomfortably.

"Yes. You _have_ to. I need to put the medicine wherever the blisters are and I'm positive there's some on your legs. Besides, we're both guys, it's not like I'm gonna be looking at you in... other places. So get going."

Gary sighed and shuffled out of the room, bringing his clothes with him. He returned a few minutes later in just his boxers. Luke pulled him over to the table and shoved him into a chair. He put the calamine lotion, Tylenol, and Benadryl on the table, along with a glass of water. The Tylenol was for the fever he probably had and to reduce pain, Benadryl to help relieve the itching, and the calamine lotion to help heal the blisters, as well as help with the itching. Pulling a chair up beside Gary, he sat down and put a hand to his forehead. He had a low grade fever, but that normally accompanied the chickenpox virus. He took a penlight from his pocket and examined the inside of Gary's mouth. Damn it. Small red sores had taken over his throat too. He grabbed the bottle of Benadryl and took two pills from it, then did the same for the Tylenol.

"Here, take these." He ordered, putting the pills and glass of water in front of Gary on the table.

"What are they for?" He asked, gesturing to the pills while scratching at his leg with his free hand.

"Stop scratching!"

"But it hurts!" He whined.

"Well that's what the pills are for!"

"But it hurts _now!_ Those take _forever_ to work!" Gary complained, all the frustration that had built up in him from itching all day starting to show.

"They don't take _that_ long to work!"

"YES THEY DO!"

"That's not the point! The point is they'll make you feel better so just take them, would you?!"

"No!" Gary said, scratching at his forearms.

Luke grabbed his hands and held them away from him.

"You better take them _right fucking now_ or so help me-"

He was interrupted when Gary wrenched his hands away and jumped up from his chair, bolting for his room.

"Oi! Come back here!" Luke shouted, jumping up after him.

He saw Gary disappear into his room and was almost there when the door was slammed shut in his face, lock clicking in place shortly after. He sighed and leaned against the door, looking through his pockets for something to pick the lock with. Gary was laying on the bed scratching everywhere he could reach. He could feel blood and skin gathering under his nails, but he _really_ didn't give a shit right now. He heard the door click lightly and knew it was unlocked now but he still didn't care. The door swung open to admit a pissed off Luke.

"HEY! I told you to quit scratching!" He yelled angrily, crossing the room and jumping on top of Gary, straddling his chest.

He grabbed his hands, which were now coated in a thick red substance, and pinned them to the bed. Gary yelped in surprise when he felt a large amount of weight on top of him all of the sudden. His hands were forcibly dragged away from the itchiness and pinned to the bed. The burning returned. It got worse and worse as the seconds ticked by.

"Let me go! It hurts! It hurts!" He cried, tears stinging in his eyes as he tried and failed to get away from Luke.

"You're only making it worse! Damn it, you're bleeding."

He thought about what to do for a moment. He didn't want to leave Gary alone because he knew he would start scratching again. But the medicines and lotion he needed were on the kitchen table. He also needed a pair of handcuffs and some oven mitts. It was obvious that Gary wasn't going to stop itching and he only made it worse every time he did so. Luke really didn't want the blisters to get infected and with all the scratching Gary had done, it was all too possible for that to happen. He needed the oven mitts to cover his hands so he wouldn't be able to irritate the wounds more than he already had. The handcuffs were to keep the oven mitts _on_ (because Gary would take them off) while also keeping Gary relatively still while he treated him and gave him his medicine. He sighed when he realized he would have to leave the younger man alone for a moment.

 _Well I suppose if I'm gonna go I'd better hurry._

He jumped off the bed and ran from the room, into the kitchen. He remembered that there was food in the oven but knew he would be too busy dealing with Gary to eat dinner, so he turned off the oven. He was glad he had. Flaming taco shells were the last thing he needed at the moment. He opened a cabinet that was over the top of the fridge and felt around until the cold metal of handcuffs met his fingertips. He pulled them down and set them on the table beside the rest of his supplies. Opening a drawer by the oven, he quickly retrieved a pair of oven mitts. He gathered up everything he needed and hurried back to the bedroom.

Gary lay on the bed, scratching at his back. He was confused as to why his friend had suddenly left like that, but guessed he was coming back soon and wanted to scratch while he could. A few minutes later Luke returned and put his supplies down at the foot of the bed. He glanced at Gary, who was _still_ scratching, and decided on what to do. He knelt down on the bed beside Gary and moved him to lay correctly on the bed. He didn't seem to care. He then leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed the pair of oven mitts and the handcuffs, being careful to keep the latter out of sight.

Luke straddled his waist and pried Gary's hands away from the rest of him and wrestled the oven mitts onto them. Gary fought with him and tried to get out of his hold, but the older man weighed more and was stronger than him, so it was no use. If he thought Gary was upset now, then he was gonna be thrown for a loop when Gary caught sight of the handcuffs. Which is exactly what happened. When Gary saw the handcuffs he freaked out and came pretty damn close to having a panic attack. Luke held the oven mitt clad hands down with one hand, using his free one to retrieve the handcuffs he had hidden behind him. He brought them around in front of him and was about to bring Gary's hands to the thick metal spindles at the head of the bed so he could cuff them to them, when the very same hands were nearly wrenched from his grip.

"N-nooo! I'm sorry! Please d-don't Luke! I swear I w-wo...won't scratch anymore! I'm s-sorry!" Gary choked out between sobs, tears flooding down his cheeks at a seemingly endless rate.

Luke felt really bad for his young friend, but he knew he was just saying those things so he would let him go. And as soon as he did that, he knew for a fact that Gary would start scratching again. Even if it was unintentional, Gary would start scratching the blisters again because chickenpox itched _really_ bad. If he just got this part over with quickly and got some medicine into Gary's system, he knew his friend would feel better. He hated seeing him sick like this and wanted to get him feeling better sooner rather than later.

"Gary. Gary, listen to me. The handcuffs are just to keep you still. That's the only thing they're for, I promise. Calm down, it's okay."

Gary still had nightmares about the things that John had done to him and Luke knew he had probably just triggered a flashback. Certain things caused him to have flashbacks when he saw them. It didn't happen very often, but when it did it was _bad._ Sighing and knowing that this most likely wasn't going to get any better and Gary probably wasn't going to be calming down any time soon, he pulled the young man's hands up, locking the cuffs in place around both the metal spindles and Gary's mitten covered wrists. The reaction he received was immediate and violent.

"NOOO! P-PLEASE DON'T! PLEASE! L-LEAVE M-ME ALONE! DON'T H-HURT M-" He screamed, thrashing and kicking trying to get away.

Luke covered Gary's mouth with his hand, begging him to be quiet. He didn't want the neighbors to hear him screaming and call the police under the impression that he was hurting him when he was actually just trying to help. Gary screamed into his hand, breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps that made Luke worry about him hyperventilating.

"Gary please be quiet! Calm down! I promise I'm not going to hurt you!"

"It h-hurts! Make it s-stop! Please! Let m-me go! Make it s-stop!" He cried as tears raced down his cheeks, his voice muffled by Luke's hand.

"I will make it stop, but you gotta calm down first, alright? Don't cry, it's okay." Luke said soothingly, running his free hand through Gary's soft chestnut brown hair in an effort to calm him down.

After a few minutes Gary stopped fighting and his breathing slowed. He laid on the bed, sniffling pitifully and looking up at Luke, waiting for him to fulfill his promise of making the pain stop. It still hurt _so_ bad. But instead of screaming, which he was now too exhausted to do anymore, he just laid there crying. Luke realized that the younger man was waiting for him to do something and he slowly removed his hand from his mouth, waiting a few moments to make sure he wasn't going to start screaming again. When he didn't do anything of the sort, he moved down the bed to the bottles of Tylenol and Benadryl. He took two pills from each bottle and left the room for a few seconds to get a glass of water for Gary. When he got back, he climbed up onto the bed beside the younger man and wiped the tears from his face before holding the pills out to him.

"Here, you need to take these."

Gary shook his head and said, voice barely above a whisper, "Th-throat hurts..."

"I know, I know. But you need to take these. They'll make you feel better." Luke said, scooting closer to him and moving him to sit up as much as he could while cuffed to the bed.

Gary winced at the movement and turned his head away. He didn't want to take the pills. His throat felt like he had drunk a gallon of acid and he couldn't even imagine how bad it would feel if he tried to swallow something. He wanted to leave. He hated this. His body felt like it was on fire and he couldn't even do anything about it. His head felt like it was about to explode. And it was so cold. Why the fuck was it so cold? He failed to realize that he had started shivering nearly twenty minutes ago. It felt cold to him, but really he was burning up. His fever was getting worse. What was Luke thinking? Didn't he realize how shitty he felt? That he didn't want to take any pills right now? He angrily pulled at the handcuffs, hoping they would magically come undone. Sadly, life didn't work that way. A hand snaked up into his line of vision, grabbing at his jaw to get him to look at the hand's owner. He growled and tried to bite but the hand moved away too fast. He heard a sigh and footsteps moving away from him, toward the door. He couldn't see properly because he was still crying, but he assumed that those footsteps were Luke's. Luke had said he would make him feel better but now he was leaving. Why? Where was he going? What was he doing? And most importantly- was he coming back? He shoved the thought from his mind and yanked at the cuffs again. There had to be _some_ way to get out of them...

Luke rummaged through the medicine cabinets for some children's Benadryl and Tylenol (those 2 medicines in liquid form). He also needed to find a syringe without a needle. He knew he had one somewhere... The sound of metal hitting metal came to him from the bedroom and he shook his head, knowing Gary was trying to get out of the cuffs. He fully intended on uncuffing him after he was asleep, because the Benadryl would probably knock him right out. It usually did, Gary wasn't very good at staying awake once there were meds in his system. Plus, he was sure Gary was already exhausted. It was safe to assume that he hadn't gotten any sleep last night and he was also sick. Both of those make any person tired, so he was basically teetering on the edge of a cliff, unconsciousness lingering at the bottom waiting for him to topple over the edge. The Benadryl would literally shove him over the edge. If Luke could find it, that is.

*French accent* Five minutes later...

Damn it! He _still_ couldn't find the- oh... It was right in front of his face the whole time. Oops... (A/N: LUKE YOU'RE SUCH A DUMBASS...! Oh wait... I created you... hehehe...) He finally found the children's Benadryl! He had found the children's Tylenol almost immediately, as well as the syringe, but the Benadryl was hidden... right in front of his face. So you see, it was very difficult to find. He sighed quietly and set the three objects on the table, listening to Gary's pitiful sniffles from the bedroom. He wished the poor kid would stop crying. It had always bothered him when he cried because with his childhood situation, he had already cried so much, and a person who had suffered so much that early in life should be happy for the rest of it. That's what he thought, anyways. But then again, he was pretty sure he would cry too if he had chickenpox.

He picked up the syringe and the bottle of children's Tylenol and stuck the tip of the syringe into the bottle, extracting two times the usual dosage because of Gary's age. He knew he probably wasn't supposed to do that but honestly, what harm could it do? If anything, if would knock him out for a while longer. Leaving his supplies on the table, he stood and approached Gary's room.

Gary squirmed and struggled against the cuffs but for the life of him, could not get the damn things off! He vaguely heard footsteps entering the room once again, but he didn't care. He knew full well that Luke would probably attempt to get him to take his medicine again. Fuck him. He wasn't going to. He felt the bed dip as Luke sat down beside him holding a syringe filled with a reddish pinkish liquid.

 _Ewww! That looks disgusting._ He thought, not paying any attention to Luke, who was trying in vain to get his attention.

"Gary!" Luke said, waving a hand in front of his face.

He jumped back in surprise, letting out a yelp and nearly hitting his head on the metal spindles behind him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Will you _please_ take your meds? They'll make you feel a lot better. Don't you want to feel better?"

 _I would feel a hell of a lot better if I wasn't handcuffed to a bed._

Gary just sat there, refusing to answer his question- partly because he was pissed and partly because he didn't feel like talking, as his throat was currently on fire. After about two minutes of this, Luke got fed up and grabbed his jaw, turning his head to face him, and quickly brought the syringe up toward his mouth. He immediately moved as far away from him as possible, only realizing his mistake when he lay prone on the bed. Now he didn't have any room to move. That was just _great._ Good going Gary, you just ruined any chance you had of _not_ taking your meds. He lashed out with his legs, kicking at Luke but missing completely when the latter ducked. Luke grabbed his legs and pinned them to the bed before pulling himself up and straddling Gary's waist, efficiently preventing him from kicking him. Gary turned his head away in a last-ditch effort to avoid taking his medicine, although he already knew he was screwed.

Luke pinched his nose to get him to open his mouth and after nearly a full minute, he did. Gary felt the syringe slide into his mouth and could taste the medicine being pushed out of it. Ewww. That was fucking _nasty_. He tried to spit it out but the syringe was taken out and a hand clamped over his mouth instead, then Luke blew in his face, forcing him to swallow. He gagged as it burned a path down his throat. He couldn't even describe how his throat felt now, he just knew that it _hurt._ The rest of him burned too. Why did everything burn?

He was forced to take his medicine until the syringe was empty, then Luke left again, presumably to get more medicine for him. He felt like he was gonna puke any minute now. His cheeks were once again wet with tears from the pain in his throat. It hurt a million times worse than before he was forced to take his meds. He was so tired now, and it was difficult to keep his eyes open. Luke returned a few minutes later with another syringe filled with medicine. More tears raced down Gary's cheeks as dread washed over him. He didn't want to take any more. It already hurt _so bad..._ Luke gave him a look of pity before sitting on the bed beside him once again.

"Do you want to go to the hospital?" Luke asked quietly.

Gary's head snapped up and he vehemently shook it back and forth. More tears welled in his eyes instantly.

"N-no... no no p-please n-no..." He whimpered.

His voice sounded like someone had scrubbed his throat with steel wool.

"If you don't take your medicine, I'm taking you to a hospital."

Luke actually had no intention of taking him to a hospital, knowing that there wasn't much they could do for him short of putting him to sleep so he wouldn't be in pain. But he needed Gary to take his medicine and he knew he hated hospitals, so he had threatened to take him to one so that he would willingly take his medicine instead of Luke having to force feed him. He hated doing that. It was a lot of work and he knew it was probably harsher on Gary's throat than just taking the medicine willingly.

"It... it h-hurts..." The younger of the two whined as tears rolled down his cheeks, his voice so quiet that it was barely understandable.

Luke ran a hand through his hair, trying to comfort him.

"Hey, I know, but it'll be quick, okay? Then you can go to sleep. I bet you're tired."

Gary sniffled and nodded slowly, although he didn't want to. He didn't want to go to the hospital, but he didn't want to take his medicine either. His hands were tied (hehe, literally). Luke leaned forward and put the tip of the syringe in his mouth, slowly giving him the Tylenol. Gary choked and a couple of times they had to stop for a moment, but he tried his best not to. He took all of it without complaint and soon found himself drifting off to sleep, the Benadryl doing it's job.

Eventually he was shoved off the cliff, plunging into the depths of unconsciousness below.

* * *

 **A/N: Whoo, that was long. By the way, if anyone here reads my story You Can't Kill a Roach, I just thought you should know that Luke actually did take Gary in when he was 13, so they're really close. Luke will be coming soon in You Can't Kill a Roach, this oneshot was also to help kinda... introduce Luke and give you guys a bit of background info and to show you what he's like. Trust me, he's a very sweet person when you're not sick. Ummm, oh and like I said earlier, you really should go check out BTS. They're really cool. I wouldn't waste my time typing all this out if they weren't! Please review and tell me what you thought! Toodles... :)**


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